


Maybe to Hell (Maybe to Heaven)

by TheAnswerIsAlways42



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: But it does end on a kinda hopeful note, Hamilton is oblivious, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Obliviousness, This ended up being kinda angsty, this was supposed to be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-27 18:49:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13254471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAnswerIsAlways42/pseuds/TheAnswerIsAlways42
Summary: Set in the work “Saving Thomas Jefferson.”Where Alex sees that Thomas wrote A+T on the bathroom mirror and he confesses that he saw it. Except he assumes the A obviously refers to Aaron Burr, instead of himself. When Thomas informs him that it actually refers to one Alexander Hamilton, Alex that brushes it off and laughs that it’s such a funny coincidence.(Alexander means well, but is bound to get burned.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swanofthelake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanofthelake/gifts).



> This was inspired by the story "Saving Thomas Jefferson" by swanofthelake. I really recommend checking them out, and this would probably make more sense if you also read that one before or after or at any point in time, really.

“So, uh…” Alexander tries to start, but stops and can only give a weak chuckle, not able to meet the questioning stare. The mouth that could speak a hundred words per minute faltered, failing its owner in that moment. Honestly, it hadn’t really been _his_ fault. Thomas was the one that gave him the change of clothes that he had to change into. Of _course_ , he went to the bathroom to do so; what other option was there? And maybe, _just maybe_ , he should have paid no heed to the writing on the mirror. Maybe he shouldn’t have put actual thought into the simple _A+T_.

But he did. And maybe Alexander doesn’t regret that. Maybe it bothers him most of all. That was the one thing he didn’t want to focus on; how he could feel his eyebrows furrow in what he would call surprise, but others might even call envy. Maybe it’s both, he certainly didn’t know.

Who could blame him? He never expected Thomas, of all people, to be reduced to _coughing flowers over Aaron Burr_. Because there really wasn’t anyone else in the office whose name started with an A. At least, not anyone that Alexander could think of.

Okay, he’ll admit that he probably shouldn’t have hunted Burr down to question him over his relations regarding Thomas, but Alexander had just been so curious about it because he wanted to help Thomas with the hanahaki that afflicted him. Truly, he had the best intentions; however, the road to hell is paved with good intentions (and sometimes it leads to heaven itself), but it’s hard to tell until you arrive.

Alexander realized that Thomas had been waiting for an answer, and hurried to formulate a response, “Sorry! I didn’t mean—That is to say, I saw what you wrote on your mirror that one time I was at your place, and I just happened to see it, really, no ill-meaning! I was just surprised that you have a crush on Aaron Burr, so I went to question him. But I’m super sorry, really I am!” He was stumbling over his words, his usually precisely crafted speech garbled and messy. It tended to do that sometimes, but only when he was around Thomas Jefferson. The reason for such an occurrence was unknown to Alexander. (Although he could figure it out if he put any semblance of thought into it, he avoided doing _that_ as if it were the plague. Unintentionally, though. Unconscious, maybe.)

Thomas’ slack-jawed expression was something that Alexander couldn’t fathom a reason for. So, the solution, of course, was to simply ask what the hell was wrong with him. The reply he got wasn’t a very satisfactory one. Honestly, it was downright infuriating. All he wanted to do was help Thomas, but he sure wasn’t making it easy.

“ _Aaron Burr!_ You think that I’m in love with _Aaron Burr!_ ” This was even weirder than the previous reaction to what Alexander had said. Thomas’ laughter was borderline hysterical as the words were gasped from his mouth.

“What else was I supposed to think?” Alexander snapped. He waved his arms around in an exaggerated motion, mostly from frustration, but also to get Thomas to _focus on the conversation and answer his question_. “Who else has a name that starts with A?”

Thomas had finally calmed down, stopping his motion to wipe tears from his eyes to deadpan at Alexander. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said sarcastically, “maybe one Alexander Hamilton?” Alexander didn’t know anyone else that had the exact same first and last name as him, but dang was that awesome.

“Shoot, really?” Alexander’s wide grin seemed to knock Thomas off guard, and he simply nodded, very confused and very wary of his once-rival’s hyper motions. (But most of all, he was hopeful. So very hopeful for the response that he never allowed himself to even dream of.) “That’s so cool! You never told me that you knew another Alexander Hamilton!”

This was not the right reply. In fact, Thomas even seemed to trip in bewilderment—except they weren’t walking, they were just standing still in front of Alexander’s desk. And yet, it was almost as if he had tripped, with wide eyes and knees still stiff, shoving his hands out in an attempt to save himself. He just started falling over so quickly that Alexander barely had time to reach out and catch him.

The good news was that Alexander had maybe caught Thomas.

The bad news was that the action of catching Thomas threw Alexander off balance enough for him to crash to the ground with Thomas in tow.

They landed in a heap on the, thankfully, carpeted floor with the breath knocked out of both of their lungs. The both of them had tumbled down in such a way that Thomas was on his back with Alexander on top of him, their lips _so close, just_ —

“I am _so_ sorry, Thomas! Are you okay!” Leave it to Alexander to not even realize what position they were in.

Thomas groaned and rolled his eyes in exasperation, but he softened his face when he saw the genuine worry in the other man’s honey coloured eyes. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it. I was just very… shocked is one way to put it, I guess.”

“Yeah, about that. Why were you so incredulous? You’re the one that said you love someone the has the _exact_ same name as me. I mean, seriously, what are the chances?” Alexander’s face was still right over Thomas’, and he could feel the man’s breath as he rapidly spoke.

“Wait,” Thomas interrupted in disbelief, “when did I ever say that I love someone who isn’t you, but just happens to share your name?”

“But you just said you loved someone named Alexander Hamilton.”

“Because I do love someone named Alexander Hamilton,” he said these words with delicate care, holding a steady gaze with the highly confused Alexander. “It just so happens that said Alexander Hamilton is right in front of me.” And, without waiting, Thomas tilted his head up and kissed him.

Alexander was frozen in shock. _Thomas Jefferson was in love with Alexander Hamilton._ Thomas Jefferson was in love with _him_. And he was kissing him. So, what else to do but kiss him back? It was soft, and gentle, and so comforting that wanted nothing more than to stay in that moment for the rest of eternity. _This is what heaven must be like._

But then his thoughts caught up with him, and Alexander scrambled away with a gasp. _He wasn’t in love with Thomas Jefferson._ He _couldn’t_ be in love with Thomas Jefferson. He _shouldn’t_ be in love with Thomas freaking Jefferson. There was no way. He just wanted to help him so he could destroy Thomas himself, not some stupid flower disease.

Alexander Hamilton had always been good at running away from certain problems (even if they always seemed to catch up to him). So, he ran. He ran as Thomas called out for him to wait. He ran through the dark hallways of the empty office building. He ran as he felt tears trailing down his face. He ran as he felt quiet sobs reverberate from his chest. He ran, and ran, and ran.

_Because, while it maybe almost felt as if he were in heaven for the shortest of seconds, Alexander felt as if he were burning in the pits of hell._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I said I'd give some closure, didn't I? It isn't very happy closure, however.

Thomas didn’t know what was happening anymore.

Hamilton had left like the hurricane he was: hitting suddenly, leaving devastation in his wake before vanishing into thin air.

But he couldn’t quite shake how, after Alexander had shoved him away, Alexander had a _look_ in his eyes that cut Thomas right to the bone. Hamilton may be comparable to an unpredictable hurricane, but Alexander— _Alexander_ had the look of a man that was fighting a desperate war inside his head.

So maybe Thomas started chasing after Alexander because of his want to talk about what had occurred, or it could have been to spin a web of lies and excuses. (But it was really because he saw that _look_ and he needed to at least attempt to mend the damage that must be his fault. Of course, he wouldn’t admit to anyone, even himself, that this was the true reason.)

Maybe what Thomas really needed was to stop lying to himself.

Nevertheless, as Alexander ran out of his own office, Thomas yelled out, trying to get him to wait and let them talk it out. It was if Alexander was oblivious to his surrounding as he kept sprinting down the hallway, stumbling into the wall at the first turn. He let out a huff before starting the chase (if it still counts as a chase when the one being chased isn’t aware that they’re being sought after).

It didn’t last very long, what with Alexander being highly disoriented and Thomas being a mother hen. Once Alexander was within arm’s reach, Thomas laid a hand on his shoulder and called out again, “Alexander—”

“Don’t!” He screamed, shrugging off Thomas’ hand and spinning around to face him with a tear streaked face and fury burning in his eyes. “Just—” he faltered, voice cracking. Thomas could see in that moment how rigid Alexander was. Shoulders tense, hands clenched, and breathing ragged. But he could also see how Alexander cracked. He just seemed to collapse inwards, staggering into a nearby wall and sinking down until he could draw in his knees and just start _sobbing_.

Yeah, Thomas wasn’t even _close_ to being ready to deal with seeing Alexander so shattered. But he tried. And maybe it would work, maybe it wouldn’t, he wouldn’t know until he tried. So, he plopped himself right in front of the broken man on the ground and simply pulled him close. He then proceeded to softly rub circles into Alexander’s tense back while whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

It took Alexander awhile until he truly relaxed into Thomas’ arms. He knew instinctively that Thomas was safe, but he mentally just could not accept it. Even as he relaxed, he argued that he wasn’t in love with Thomas, but he knew that it wasn’t the truth. (He just couldn’t figure out what was. He wouldn’t say that he was or wasn’t in love with Thomas Jefferson, he couldn’t say what exactly the feelings associated with the man were.)

“Are you okay?” Thomas’ quiet words broke through his reverie. They both knew that the question went deeper than what he articulated. It wasn’t just about him, it wasn’t just about both of them, it was about everything because, like it or not, their lives had slowly become more and more intertwined. Alexander turned the question over in his head, examining it carefully before answering.

“…Maybe. Maybe not.”

They really wouldn’t know until the end, now would they? And, sure, it will certainly hurt them somewhere along the line, but that’s life in general. The options were to get burned or to reach a certain level of happiness that they wouldn't achieve without each other (dull, boring, not extreme options weren't options for them and never were). Neither of them were people known for backing down from a problem if it _could_  or _might_  be dangerous. Why not, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the still very open ending, but it is on a slightly more hopeful note, so...  
> Also sorry for it being so short, this wasn't designed to have an ending really, so it's short and quick.
> 
> All that's left now is the crack-y version omake thingy. Which will probably be up in a few hours to a few days, but hopefully a few hours.

**Author's Note:**

> When this idea first came to me, I intended it to be pure crack. Then I actually wrote it. Whoops. I was tempted to have a happy ending, but then I realized that the story that inspired it doesn't have an ending yet and I was like 'nah'. Maybe I'll do a second chapter with a happier ending and general plotline.
> 
> Thanks to anyone who actually bothered to read this.


End file.
